


quiet chaos

by magnxlia



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Accidental Baby Acquisition, Attempted Kidnapping, Hurt Theo Raeken, M/M, My First AO3 Post, Protective Liam Dunbar, Protective Theo Raeken, Suspense, Theo Raeken Needs a Hug, except theo is the one being acquired
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-28
Updated: 2020-09-17
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:26:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23888932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magnxlia/pseuds/magnxlia
Summary: If it's not Monroe, who is it?* this fic is under construction *
Relationships: Corey Bryant/Mason Hewitt, Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Liam Dunbar/Theo Raeken
Comments: 32
Kudos: 78





	1. brief prologue

**Author's Note:**

> this is a preview! first chapter is coming soon

The wood was silent. 

The air still smelled of pine and mist; the ground was still covered in bleached leaves and golden needles; the wind still flowed but did not howl or rustle. Wings rested. Animals hid. The pleasant hum of insects ceased as the wood was hushed by heavy footfalls and the scent of mistletoe. 

The true predators had arrived.


	2. run until you feel your lungs bleeding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The chase is on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (chapter title is from Run by Hozier)

As if seeing through a haze, Theo parked his truck near the edge of the forest and climbed into the back. Thumping his head against the cushion of the seats, he breathed out in sweet relief. Sleep was so close, and he was so ready to fall into it. It was then that he noticed that the omnipresent ambient noises of the teeming forest were absent. Normally Theo would tense at the quiet. He’s learned that silence is simply the precursor to the loudest screams, the hollow space that grants darkness the freedom to grow. However, Theo was too tired for alertness and was instead grateful for the calm night, hoping to get a rare full night of sleep. Which, at this point, was the thing he wanted most from life.

He reached down and grabbed his blanket, hand brushing lightly against the rough gray fibers underneath the driver’s seat as he pulled it out. The plush and warm material pushed him pleasantly further into the welcoming realm of sleep. Although his truck wasn’t the safest place in the world to rest his head, it was the only place he currently had, so he gladly took the relative comfort it offered.

Theo figured there was no use to being vigilant and reaching his senses out tonight, for he would probably be woken by an officer within the next couple of hours anyways. On the one hand, he would like to live and evade hell’s grasping hands as long as possible. But, on the other hand, he felt like he should balance what the responsible and self-preserving thing to do was and what he was _actually_ responsible for. As an 18-year-old teenager, should it really be expected of him to constantly keep watch for himself? He was a hunted creature left vulnerable outside to sleep, while so many humans got to sleep in cozy houses or apartments with actual locks on the doors and little to no interruptions. So, if he wanted to skimp out on keeping his senses peeled for a couple of hours, he felt like sometimes he could. “Self-care,” he thought, laughing to himself.

As he laid there, trying to relax and waiting for sleep to come in the savored silence, he envisioned, as he often did, that he wasn’t in the back of his truck anymore. He thought of being in a log cabin, of lying on a feathery queen-sized bed, of a lit fireplace nearby crackling merrily as it filled his bones with its heat. He thought of being comforted by another’s presence close by in the cabin, awake and alert, watching over the woods for him. He thought of the imaginary coffee and breakfast that he could make in the morning, and the comforting knowledge that the hunger would go away soon. The hot shower that he could take to ease the ache in his shoulders and behind his eyes when he was finished eating said breakfast. The sink he could brush his teeth in without weird looks. The deadbolts and bullet-proof glass that would surround him.

He wasn’t entirely sure how healthy these imaginings were for him, seeing as he would wake eventually and be continually disappointed. Being technically still legally dead, he couldn’t even manage to get a minimum wage job. Therefore, there was no way that he could ever get to a point in life where that dream could become a reality. But, this imagined home was one of the only reprieves from his lonely, and very much homeless, life he could get. So, he allowed the treasured delusion some nights in order to sleep.

This was one of those nights. Theo hadn’t gotten any sleep previous nights due to nightmares and cops, and had been stretching his meals out as far as possible. Needless to say, he needed the rest and dove into his mind cabin as soon as his blanket was over his head.

Theo melted into the safety of his illusion and was beginning to drift when he heard something outside, too close and too loud to ignore. Footsteps. Sitting up, he looked out of his windows and stretched his senses out. He expected to find the familiar sight of a cop’s flashlight and their annoyed expression when they realized it was indeed the same teenager as last night, but instead saw nothing but darkness.

This should have been reassuring. But, the last time Theo’d written noises like these off as his own paranoia, he’d been shot and kidnapped. Being unable to see the source of the noise made him even more concerned. “ _Hunters?”_ he thought briefly. It most likely wasn’t though, seeing as Monroe had been run out of town not more than a couple months ago. He thought it was impossible that she’d recovered her ranks and dared to show her face again so soon, even considering the conniving mastermind that she was.

Still, this thought did not comfort him. If it wasn’t Monroe, who was it? The possibility that it was something new and unknown was more terrifying than the known evil that was Monroe. As frightening as Monroe was, she would never be scarier than the horrifying mystery that lay beyond his truck in that moment.

Another footstep crashed, shattering any illusion in Theo’s mind that he’d imagined the first. Scarily close. And coming from a different direction this time, suggesting that he was facing a group rather than a person.

He whipped around to face the back window, eyes aglow and wary. Ears strained so far they hurt.

At the thud of another footstep, Theo’s heart leapt. So did his body. If he had a chance of getting out of this alive, he had to be out of the truck. Else he was a sitting duck.

He lunged for the door and forced it open with his upper arm, legs not far behind as they hit the ground. Keys clutched in his clawed hands, he ran for it, slamming the door closed and locking it as he ran. Whoever these people were, he couldn’t have them taking his only possessions, as meagre as they were.

Theo ran like a bat out of hell, egged on by the thunder of footfalls following behind him into the forest. Wasting no time being scared, he kept his focus purely on his surroundings and his legs, pushing them to their absolute limit. He figured it didn’t matter at the moment where he was running to, rather only what he was running from.

But who was after him? As important as it was to get away, a few minutes into running, his curiosity began to eat at him. Maybe if he could figure out who he was dealing with, he could have a better strategy than just fleeing. Leaping over stumps and side-stepping trees, he breathed in harshly, trying to catch his attackers’ scent. The first time, the only thing he could pick up was the smell of the forest; damp mist and sharp pines. He breathed in again and picked up the one burning stench he never wanted to smell again. Mistletoe.

Well, _fuck_.

Now he was scared. He couldn’t even pick up the scent of wolfsbane, meaning his attackers knew who he was and were quite possibly going in for the kill, unless they planned on healing him which was unlikely. 

Knowing this, Theo figured it was time to make an escape plan beyond just running away. The way things were going, and considering his diet and sleep schedule, he was losing stamina very quickly. He could already feel his legs tiring exponentially with every step. He was no longer gliding across the forest floor, rather the decaying foliage seemed to be pulling his feet in like quicksand. His breathing was heavy and he could feel himself slowing. The rapid footsteps were beginning to outpace his own.

Theo started seriously considering what his options were and came up with a couple plans with varying chances of survival.

Plan A: Call Liam and tell him to hurry the fuck up.

Pulling his phone out of his pocket, he prayed to every god ever worshipped that it was charged. “Come on,” he huffed as he waited for it to turn on. After a couple of seconds with only a black screen to show for it, he swore and put it back. Time to try out his other plans.

Plan B: Circle back to the truck and try to drive away. He could probably work with that, but it wasn’t very reliable. What if they’d caught up to him by the time he got back to the truck?

What else was he supposed to do, though? Theo looked around him and the trees stared back. Plan C: ...Climb a tree?

And, as always, Plan D: Fight.

Plan C had a 15% survival chance, assuming he somehow grew wings, the trees in this section of the woods were too sparse. Plan D was certain death. So, Plan B it was.

Thankfully, Theo knew the preserve like he knew the feeling of Liam’s fist on his jaw: intimately and from repeated reluctant exposure. His steps curved left, planning on taking another later on to loop around to the parking lot.

Time passed and it didn’t seem like his pursuers were catching onto his plan, following him just the same. Oddly, they didn’t fire one shot. It stands to reason that they would fire at him in hopes of hitting him and slowing him down. But, it seems as though the mistletoe was a backup plan, the primary being running him down. Why? Theo decided that he would think on that if and when he got away.

Finally, his car came into view. Promising his body that this was the last sprint, he sped up. He furiously clicked the unlock button as he got closer and stretched his arm out for the door handle.

Just then, as he was about to grab it, a shot rang out. Flinching just for a moment, preparing for pain, he missed the handle. He glanced back at the forest quickly as he re-grabbed it, but couldn’t see who fired it.

Did it hit him? He had no idea; he didn’t have time to feel it. Even if he was, there was nothing he could do about it now. Theo then tore the door open and launched himself into the driver’s seat. He jammed his key into the ignition and yanked it sideways, the familiar hum of the truck easing his heartbeat. He kept his eyes forward onto the forest as he threw it in reverse and floored the gas. As soon as he was clear of the curb he switched it to drive and sped away, a small laugh making it past his lips as he saw the figures finally breaking through the trees.

“Suck it!” Theo breathed hysterically as he drove away. “Hahaaaa!”

He couldn’t believe that that worked. The trees were whipping past him in his windows and he watched them in shock. After checking his rearview mirror for other headlights, he deemed himself well and truly escaped.

It was then that the aftermath of the chase hit him. Oh yah, and the poison.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello! im super excited to be finally posting this chapter and officially starting this fic! it's going to be a long one my dudes.
> 
> it isn't pre-written since I literally just finished finals but it is all planned out! I've been in the Thiam fandom for a while and I've always had a ton of ideas for fics. I finally got the motivation to start writing them lol.
> 
> I only write between the hours of 12 am and 2 am bc of my ~family~ so errors are very possible. pls let me know if u find any <3\. 
> 
> you can find me on tumblr with the same username so come chat or ask any questions you have about the fic! see y'all very soon!


	3. there ain't no rest for the wicked, until we close our eyes for good

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To no one's surprise, Theo's Plan A doesn't work. Again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE READ THIS PARAGRAPH THANK YOU. ok so a lot of shit has been happening. first of all, Black Lives Matter. All Cops Are Bastards. which is why I changed the tags on this fic. previously (before george floyd was killed by police), my oc who will come in later in this fic was a police officer. he was going to be a good character too. so he's now being changed to a different profession. although this fic isn't reaching very many people, any positive representation of a cop right now is disrespectful and harmful to the BLM movement. I will not add to the oppression that black people face in our law enforcement. I cannot in good faith therefore portray any cop, even fictional, in a positive way. ALL COPS ARE BASTARDS. if you do not agree, please click off this fic. I do not want you here. I do not want you reading this fic. all cops in this fic, including mr stilinski and parrish, will be portrayed in a negative light. im white so I will not be commenting on the blm directly in the fic because no one should be listening to white people right now. our role as white allies is to amplify black voices. I will be leaving a link to a youtube playlist where all adsense goes to organizations and charities that support blm here. please leave a like and a comment on the videos if you can to help them be promoted by yt's algorithm. thank you.
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLRjatzHsdWGGO6PYoZL7onJP8522RlJn9
> 
> i apologize for the long wait time. I had to change a lot about the fic and contemplated deleting it because of my oc that was going to be a cop. I had to figure out what else he would be and how this would effect the rest of the plot I have planned. I have it all figured out and im feeling ok mentally right now so I think i'll be more consistent in the future. a lot has changed in my life in the last month and a half since i've been gone and I needed time to process everything. but! im doing better and i'm determined to finish this fic. I think y'all will really like what I have planned out. it's going to be a fun read I promise <3\. ok enjoy the chapter lovelies!

Gasping, Theo felt the aftershocks of his flight kick him in the sternum. He tightened his hold on the steering wheel and hunched forward, eyes nonetheless fixated on the road ahead. His lungs felt like they were curling in on themselves, cramped and unresponsive. It didn’t feel too dissimilar to the asthma attacks he’d had as a kid. For a couple minutes all he could do was watch the road, keeping his focus split on his breathing and guiding his car away from the forest. Just as he was getting it under control, the rest of his body came back online. 

He felt weak all over. His muscles tingled like radio static. His legs in particular throbbed from overuse. Checking for injuries, he did a mental scan of his body. Everything ached, but there was no sharp pain except for one place. He realized then that he’d been hit by that single goddamned shot on his right wrist. 

Theo could also tell that it had been laced with the mistletoe he’d smelled earlier. It burned beyond just pain and didn’t seem to be healing. His heart rate rose up once again and fear sank into his abdomen. With a shaking hand, he flipped the interior light on and looked at the injury. Thankfully, the wound was just a graze and there was no bullet in it, but unfortunately that didn’t mean shit. Any amount of mistletoe was enough to kill him. How fast was another question, though. There were no darkened veins sprouting from the graze just yet, meaning that there wasn’t much mistletoe in it and hadn’t begun to spread. He predicted he wouldn’t be feeling real effects for another fifteen minutes or so. He shut off the overhead light and whacked his head against the seat rest in frustration.

What he did in those fifteen minutes, he realized begrudgingly, would save or kill him. This time, Theo only had one plan. There was no time for Plan B. Plan A had to work. 

Theo hastily plugged his phone into the truck’s port, changing his course on the road to head to the clinic. It would be a minute or two before the phone powered up again so he used the time to plan. Should he try to treat it on his way? He then wracked his brain, mentally searching the contents of his truck for anything he could use as a tourniquet. After a minute of thinking, he came up empty. He could use a strip of a shirt or pant but it wouldn’t be very effective and would only render his right hand useless. That could cost him precious time during any task, seeing as he was using his left to drive. 

The tourniquet idea was thrown away. That would’ve never worked and he knew it, but his panicked thoughts were getting away from him. Already. Dammit. 

His phone still wasn’t turning on. 

Did he have a lighter? He could use that to burn the mistletoe at the clinic instead of looking for one when he got there. That is, assuming that Liam wouldn’t show up. Or Deaton.

Considering his past, they may choose to not help him after all. The McCall pack had already proven that they were more than willing to ignore their “No Killing” rule when it came to him. Maybe they would just sit there, he thought, and watch him die slowly. Air whistled as it left his hollow lungs. _“They would probably enjoy it,”_ his worry whispered. _“They were so relieved when you died the last time.”_ He remembered how Scott’s shoulders dropped a fraction while Theo was pulled down. How Liam’s hard eyes glinted in retribution. _“Nothing’s changed since then,”_ his thoughts swirled. He listened with mounting horror. _“Liam will gladly let you die again. Calling him for help would only be an invitation for him to marvel at your misery.”_ Theo gulped in air, trying to calm himself, but choked on it and coughed. His injured hand curled anxiously into his chest.

And the wound throbbed, bringing Theo to the surface. The shaking had increased, icy nausea creeping around and sinking into his limbs from his center. The beginnings of poisonous tendrils could barely be seen, peeking around the pink and irritated edges. He took a breath. Another. Liam would never do that to him.

His phone was on. Its white glow breaking through the viscous dark. 

“Liam broke the sword,” he reassured himself. 

Theo picked up the phone and hesitantly called Liam. He set the call on speaker and laid his phone on his thigh. The line kept ringing. And ringing. 

“Liam broke the sword,” he repeated to himself. But it continued to ring.

Finally, it went to voicemail and Theo ended the call. “Great,” Theo sighed. Just then, he remembered that he didn’t even have Deaton’s number. After all, who would’ve given it to him? There was no way Deaton was still at the clinic, it was way past business hours. With no Deaton, there was also no key to the door. His frustration built and he let out a hearty, “Fuck.”

And, with a huff, he made a Plan B. He would have to try to treat it on his own. Instead of taking the left that would lead him to the clinic, Theo stayed on the main road.

He did have a lighter, thank all that is holy. Additionally, thanks to his very homeless existence, he also had a couple of semi-clean shirts in his truck to use as bandages until he could go to the clinic in the morning. 

Understandably, Theo was a bit annoyed that Liam didn’t answer his call. Theo’d never ignored a call from _him_. It was only around midnight, surely Liam would be awake, right? Theo wasn’t entirely familiar with normal teenage circadian rhythms, but he was pretty certain that most teenagers were awake around this time even on school nights. He’d heard Liam complaining during the Anuk-Ite crisis that he’d been up until 3am doing homework, so what’s the deal? Theo came to the conclusion that Liam totally ignored his call. There was no way the current McCall pack representative in Beacon Hills was stupid enough to turn his ringer off, even while asleep. 

Was this something he should be mad about? Theo mused as he searched for an empty, preferably illuminated, parking lot to burn out the mistletoe in. Not that he particularly cared what Liam thought about him or anything, and he absolutely wasn’t hurt by being left to voicemail, but he was perturbed for sure. Definitely never hurt. Rather, he told himself, he was merely insulted. But, did Liam really not give a shit about him? Even after fighting together and putting himself in danger for the beta? He’d thought after the battle at the hospital that Liam would be at least amiable to him. In that moment, when he pulled Liam into the elevator with him, he’d seen a glint of appreciation in Liam’s eyes. That single look had meant so much to him, being the only genuine and positive interaction he’d had with another person for as long as he could remember. But, maybe that was normal to Liam, insignificant. Perhaps Liam was fluent in the language of friendship and love that Theo was painfully illiterate in. Liam lived and breathed love, while Theo harped on any tiny display of mere tolerance. 

If Liam was his measure of normal, then Theo was not normal in the slightest. He needed to work on that, he realized. Somehow. It’s not like he could get therapy like Liam. Theo obviously didn’t have health insurance. Or money for healthcare. Or parents that had money for healthcare. He would have to be fucked up, he figured. 

...On second thought, it was for the better that Liam didn’t pick up. Theo didn’t want to add anything onto his plate. This was Liam’s senior year and so far there had been no supernatural threats he had to deal with. Liam was most likely swamped with school, college applications, and sports right now. He deserved a break from the supernatural stuff and this attack was probably nothing. Theo didn't want to bother him or be a burden. When the school year ended and Liam graduated, he could come back to managing supernatural crises before he goes to college.

 _“College,”_ Theo thought blankly. _“Liam is going to college.”_ For some reason he hadn’t processed that fact until then. For, higher education had never been in the cards for Theo. He hardly had the money or education to get himself there or even fill out applications, considering he couldn’t feed himself nor had he graduated high school. Maybe he could get a GED. He mulled briefly over that thought and realized he had no idea where he would even start that process or how much it could cost him. Wow, he really didn’t know shit about the real world. It was a wonder that he was able to pass as a normal teenager, much less the adult he now apparently was. He had the life skills of a five-year-old. Ironically, it was a blessing that he was legally dead and therefore did not have to figure out how to pay taxes. 

_“There’s a bright side to everything,”_ Theo reasoned. 

There was a 7/11 coming up on his right and he pulled in, parking near a picnic bench under a street lamp. Theo gathered his very official and sanitary supplies (a t-shirt, a swiss-army knife, and a lighter) as well as his phone and keys into his arms, ignoring the protesting pain of his wrist. Exiting his car, he looked into the windows of the store and found that there was merely a lone and very asleep employee that could possibly see him. Perfect.

Still, he sat facing away from the window and laid his belongings on the table. Seeing through the honey-colored circle of light from the street lamp, Theo could tell that the mistletoe had spread. The veins in his hand and down to his elbow were drenched in noxious liquid and his entire arm had a worrying blue tint to it. Like any good survivalist, he knew that on his own, the best he could do was suck out the poison like snake venom. Sure, his mouth would sting a whole lot, but it was wildly better than dying slowly in a 7/11 parking lot. 

So, Theo got to work, painstakingly pulling mistletoe out of his veins and into his quickly blistering mouth, spitting it out onto the grass beside him. For about ten minutes this was all he did, wincing each time a fresh batch of poisoned blood passed his lips, until the dark veins had receded back into the wound. 

Theo was reluctant to move on. Next, he would have to burn the wound as much as he could stand to get the last of the mistletoe out. It was now around 1 am. He was so tired. The adrenaline and anxiety had treacherously left him and he was now feeling more exhausted every second. Gone was the panicked energy previously held in his muscles. They were now frustratingly limp and dangerously unresponsive. His body begged him to rest, give up for now. 

Ultimately, Theo didn’t want to burn himself. 

The amount of pain he’d felt in his life up to this point was too high. His past hurts pressed on his shoulders always, every cut of a scalpel and every bullet hole. Some days they were so heavy. The thought of adding more to the pile tonight was too much. 

Weak tears slipped down his cheeks. His mouth ached. 

Fuck his life. 

He lit the lighter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always, thank you for reading. 
> 
> pls stream the playlist I linked above <3\. ok bye everyone!


	4. in my head, getting ahead

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theo talks to Liam, gets bandages, and remembers that Halloween exists.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (chapter title from In My Head by Joseph)
> 
> Ok so this fic is set in the fall/winter of Liam's senior year. Idk if I specified a timeframe before this chapter but I'm pretty sure that's where we are folks. Enjoy the chapter! It's a bit longer this time yayyyy.

Theo woke to the sound of his phone vibrating. 

Eyes scrunched closed in reluctance, he slapped his uninjured left hand towards the center console where he’d placed it last night before falling asleep. He fumbled haphazardly, dropping the device multiple times until he finally gave in, groaned, and sat up. Once he got a good grip on it, he realized that he’d just received a text, rather than a call. It was from Liam, the only contact in his phone. It read:

“hey why’d you call me last night? sorry i didn’t pick up. my ringer wasn’t on.”

 _"Oh my fucking god,"_ he thought. " _How had this kid survived in Beacon Hills for so long? "_

The resident representative of the McCall pack turned his ringer off at night. Absolutely ridiculous. What if there had been an emergency? Hell, there was an emergency! Theo even had the audacity to leave his ringer on at night just in case something happened and he was needed by the pack. But Liam, the leader himself, didn’t?

Theo sighed. " _We’re fucked."_

Even though Theo was pissed at Liam for not picking up, he still didn’t want to bother him with his problems while Liam was so obviously busy from school. He must’ve left his ringer off because he wasn’t getting a lot of sleep. So, now Theo had to come up with a reason for him calling last night other than “There were scary people in the woods who shot me and I wanted help.” But, what would be a reasonable excuse? From Liam’s perspective, a guy who’d been radio silent for months just called him at 12 am for no apparent reason. Of course he was confused. 

After thinking for a minute, Theo couldn’t come up with any reason to call Liam other than what actually happened. This meant that he had to make the phone call seem like an accident… A buttdial! That still happens to people, right? It would have to do.

“Oh sorry about that. I think I accidentally buttdialed you.”

A moment passed and Theo added.

“But you should have your ringer on, dude. What if it was an emergency?”

Three dots appeared on the screen...

Theo was now looking at a middle finger emoji.

“Great. Nice talk, little wolf.”

Fuck this. Theo decided he was going back to sleep and laid back down. For the second time that morning, Theo groaned. One of those full-body groans that take all the air out of your lungs and force your ribs inwards. His face still felt dry from crying last night. That was something he was doing very frequently lately, showing emotions he didn’t know he had. Somehow, hell had changed him. "Y _ah, no shit. Trauma could do that, apparently."_ The emotions he had previously been able to ignore, suppress, or deny could no longer be hidden within himself or outwardly. 

It was the strangest sensation, to be out of control of your own thoughts and movements. Emotions felt like an invasion from an invisible force, contorting his face and sparking shivers through his spine down to his hands. They seemed almost parasitic to Theo. They bound his lungs, forcing them empty. They sent his thoughts spiralling in illogical circles, worrying and panicking about absurd scenarios or making him rethink his financials for the hundredth time in one hour. 

All his panic had taught him so far was that he would run out eventually; he would run out of money, energy, time, life. Someday, he knew now, he would vanish into nothingness and leave nothing behind but pain. Nothing he could ever do would bring joy back to the places he’d taken it from. Even if he put a monumental amount of good back into the world, he could never bring back the people he took. And what good can you do while living in a truck?

He figured that being with the McCall pack in some capacity could help him return to normalcy at the very least, but it didn’t seem like they were keen on being around him outside of when he was saving their asses from a supernatural force or doing the dirty work of a mission. Neutrality was all he could hope to establish with the pack. Allyship. Even then, allies were not friends, they could turn around and become enemies easily. The McCall pack could put him back in hell at the drop of a hat, and Theo had no way to stop them. What was he going to do? Hide in the woods? They had all the power in this situation and they were doing nothing with it. It made Theo uneasy. 

So, as he laid down to go back to sleep, those same thoughts kept him up. Money. McCall. Hell. Repeat. 

There was no escaping the actual hell that was his fucking mind, and that was the worst revelation he’d come to since returning from physical hell. You can take the boy out of hell, but you can’t take the hell out of the boy. 

\-------------

Eventually, Theo gave up on sleeping. It was 8 a.m. now and the clinic was probably open. He hadn’t parked super far away from it, so he decided on walking over.

The morning air froze the little tears he still had stuck in the pores of his cheeks. It was almost November and northern California was starting to show signs of fall. Dew froze in the morning, frosting each blade in a thin coating of crystalized white. They looked like little knives up close, pointed tips sharp and poised to kill in the biting cold. Theo breathed in and tightened the strings on his hoodie before beginning his trek, lamenting the loss of the summer warmth. There was a brief time in late summer and early fall where the days and nights were temperate enough that he didn’t have to layer up or turn on the AC for relief. It was a slice of heaven, and of sweet normalcy. He wonders if the same would happen in spring. He didn’t have enough money for a blanket, not when that money could be spent on food, so the winter would be as frustratingly sleepless as summer. Nature was trading insufferable heat for deadly frost. How lovely. 

The wound was not healed at all. After burning the rest of the mistletoe out of it, Theo had bandaged it with an old shirt and left it alone all night. Peeking underneath the shirt, he could see the charred edges of the injury and he figured he shouldn’t touch it. His healing was slower than a typical werewolf’s. Or any supernatural creatures’ for that matter. Since he was the prototype chimera, not all of his abilities were up to par. Being mortally susceptible to mistletoe and overly sensitive to wolfsbane were other examples of this. His sense of smell and hearing were also not as great as the rest of the packs’, but they were comparable, so he didn’t think anyone besides him had noticed. The two advantages he did have, however, were his abilities to shift into a coywolf and be unaffected by mountain ash. There's a give and take. 

On his walk over to the clinic, frozen grass chilling the exposed skin above his ankles, his brain caught up to him. He realized with a start that he probably shouldn’t be walking alone. He had no idea who the people chasing him last night were and he also didn’t know if that was their only planned attempt at capturing him. They could be hunting him down, in this for the long haul. He may have gotten away last night but only just barely. If they tried again, he has no doubt that they would succeed or at least get closer to. They weren’t shooting at him last night, but they could next time. 

_Dammit._ He was starting to get nervous. But, what else could he do? In terms of defense, all he had was a car and his own claws and fangs. He also had a pocket knife but he doubts that would do very well in a gunfight. And by that logic, neither would his claws or fangs. 

It’s not like the pack would help him either.

Theo took an outside look at his situation for a moment. He was an 18-year-old boy, a chimera, legally deceased, who lived in his car, alone, with no friends or family to look out for him, a terrible relationship with the county police department in a town that had just attempted genocide on his kind, and who now had people after him. 

He was a dead man walking. 

A dead man that had made it to the clinic, at least.

There was nothing he could do about his safety right now, he figured, and he focused on getting actual bandages for his injury. His right hand was no good at the moment and he would need it in a fight. The bell above the door chimed on his way in.

“Hey Dr. Deaton. How are you today?”

Deaton looked up from the front desk and sighed in slight annoyance. Taking care of a bunch of reckless teenage werewolves must get tiring. Deaton ignored his question. “What do you need, Theo?”

“Um. I was wondering if I could borrow some bandages. I ran out and I accidentally injured my hand last night.”

Deaton raised an eyebrow. “Accidentally…? Sure. But, how is it not already healed?”

“Oh, uh,” Theo was surprised that Deaton didn’t already know. “My healing is a lot slower. This one will probably take close to a full day to heal.”

“Interesting.” 

There was a pause where Deaton seemed lost in thought and then wrote something down. Eventually he continued.

“You wouldn’t mind, then, answering some questions I have about your abilities?” Deaton asked, peering over curiously at Theo’s wrapped hand. Deaton didn’t wait for Theo’s consent and walked over to him, ignoring Theo’s step back, took Theo’s hand into his and began to unwrap the makeshift bandage. “You heal slower? Does that mean that all responses are slowed? Do you have less of every ability?”

“Uh–”

Deaton unwrapped the shirt enough to see the wound. His eyes widened. “Why did you burn this? Did you have to burn out a poison? Are you more sensitive to poisons, I wonder. It would make sense that you have some weaknesses the other chimeras didn’t have. Corey and Hayden heal normally, but they were not the first attempt.” Deaton began to inspect the wound, bringing it closer to his eyes to get a better look. “Was this caused by wolfsbane or perhaps mistletoe?” 

Despite Theo’s efforts to keep calm, he found himself panicking a bit. Here was a man in a better political standing than he could ever hope to achieve with the pack being in close physical proximity to him, grabbing and inspecting his injured hand, in a place that smelled too much like wild animal and antiseptic for his comfort, asking about his weaknesses and how he got a suspicious wound. Not to mention that this man was a doctor. It was a recipe for disaster for Theo. 

He broke Deaton’s hold on his hand, bringing it back towards his center. “I just got burned by the stove by accident,” he lied. His heart leapt but Deaton didn’t hear it.

“Ah ok,” Deaton backed off, scanning Theo’s face. “I’ll get those bandages for you.”

Theo had a moment there, standing alone in the lobby of the clinic, where he considered telling Deaton the truth about last night. It would be so much easier to tell him and let the pack help him. But he also knew that he could be exaggerating. The people who attacked him last night could have already left town. There was no reason to suspect that they would cause more trouble or for anyone besides himself. If these people planned on only attacking Theo, he shouldn’t bother the pack with trying to help because it’s not their problem to solve. He’s an ally, and an unessential one at that, he reminded himself. If he wanted to stay alive, he had to keep himself that way on his own. 

He stared at the yellow upholstered chairs in the waiting room, the groves in their dark wooden legs, the stark fluorescent light shining down on them. A breath. If he was going to survive this, he would have to do it without the pack. He was alone in this, like always.

\--------------------------

It was almost November. Which meant it was Halloween. _Huh. Forgot about that one,_ Theo thought. 

It was jarring, looking out your truck window and suddenly seeing kids in costumes running by in the sunsetting light. There were little witches and princes and firefighters and everything in between weaving through the streets of Beacon Hills, scouring the neighborhoods for candies to snatch up and gobble down. People had decorated their lawns and porches. Some had gravestones littered amongst the pristine grass lawns, the perfect green contrasting the decaying stone. Skeletal hands protruded out of patches of dandelions. Glowing pumpkins lined the streets, casting their orange glow onto the underside of leaves above. 

A boy in a werewolf costume walked with his mother.

He sat and watched for a moment from inside his car. Unfortunately, Theo didn’t remember participating in Halloween at any point during his childhood. Surely he’d done it at some point, most likely with Scott and Stiles or his sister. But, he could only remember being an observer later on. He’d been so hollow then. Dimly recognizing that people had normal lives but not desiring any of it for himself.

Now, everything felt so new. After hell. 

For all his life, it was as if someone had just dropped him in the middle of the ocean. Only with a boat and sail, no flares and no shores in sight. On the horizon, he could see other boats, cruise ships and fishing boats and barges, filled with people and food and water and light but entirely unreachable. Far enough away that yelling for help was so fruitless that he didn’t even try. So, for a long time, he had just stayed in his boat, grateful that he was allowed any existence at all. He’d watched the other boats in solitude, enjoying their light and soft music in the dark of the night. Every night. He'd liked it for a while, just being in their presence. But, now he was growing tired. He was tired of being detached, of being in the dark, and alone, and utterly terrified. He wanted to get to shore and forge a life of his own. But still, he was lost. 

At some point he’d known what it was like to exist outside of the sewers, had lived with his family in a house with a white picket fence and a 2-port garage. He’d gone to school, free from real worries or pains, and had friends. He’d once been on the boats in the distance. The lights, the music, the people, he knew what it felt like to be near them. Knew that the lights were bright enough up close that little lime green spots would appear in your vision if you stared for too long. Knew the lyrics to the songs. Knew the names and faces of the people he was surrounded by. Knew what it felt like to be known by them. 

That’s why it hurt so much to be on his lone boat now. Where the lights were so dim he had to squint to see them, the music so faint that the lyrics were lost, and the people so unreachable that he’d forgotten them. He longed for the life people lived on the boats, but the times he’d lived it were so far away from him that reaching for them was pointless. 

Theo tore his eyes away from the people on the streets. He probably looked like a mummy right now, he mused. The bandages on his hand were thick and tight enough that he couldn’t make a proper fist. 

Still, the cheerful shrieks and pattering of passing children reached his ears. It was a welcome distraction from the hunger eating away at his stomach. He laid back down on his back seats and curled up, willing sleep to come in the company of so many others. The crowd provided a layer of comfort. There were adults out there, guardians, maybe not _his_ , but there were well-adjusted adults nearby and that could be enough for him to fall asleep. Relative safety and all that.

Alas, relative safety was never true safety, he would learn. 

The people in the forest knew that. The crowd would disperse. Night would fall and their guns would fire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey y'all! it do be 1 am and I did just write this whole thing today so i'm going to check it in the morning for mistakes but I wanted y'all to be able to read it asap! lmk if u find any grammar errors lol. 
> 
> I reworked the plan for this fic bc I was feeling angsty (I kinda lost some friendships this past week, a lot happened). so this fic is going to have less fluff than originally planned, and a lot more angst. I figured y'all would be ok with that bc if there is one thing i know about thiam shippers, it's that we love pain lol. I plan on having a thoroughly fluffy ending though, I promise.
> 
> I hope you all are staying healthy and signing petitions! sorry this took so long, I had to apply to some important academic things. 
> 
> ALSO omg if any of you need a show rec please watch She-Ra on netflix. very gay. very enemies to lovers. right up my thiam shipper alley. (it also has a very special place in my heart as a lesbian).


	5. piece by piece, day by day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theo gets hunted, first by his mysterious pursuers, and later by his own mind.
> 
> TW: panic attack. just skip the whole chapter because it's basically one big panic attack. I have a panic disorder and wrote most of the chapter while in an attack so just keep yourself safe if that will trigger you and skip this one. 
> 
> Chapter title is from Particles by Nothing But Thieves. I would recommend listening to Warriors by 2WEI for the first half of the chapter and Particles for the second. I wrote the chapter to semi-follow the musicality of those songs.

Theo jolted awake. There were cars parking next to him on either side. Another pulling in behind. It was happening again.

Before he could even think, he was out the door. Practically flying, he broke through the tree line, feet pounding against the freshly frosted leaves. It was as if his world was on fire, the forest, the ground, the branches, and leaves above him. Everything was bathed in panicked red. His lungs burned. Smoke filled them at each inhale. Their guns rattled from behind him. He was filled with blinding fear.

His previous strategy wouldn’t work, he despaired, breathing in the scent of mistletoe. Tears of terror threatened to spill over his cheeks. He couldn’t see a way out. He had no plans. 

Their footsteps sounded from behind him, gaining distance faster than last time. They’d learned. They knew all he could do was run. He could see it now, they would advance, creep up on him from behind. Even as he reached out when they would grab him, there was no mercy. The guns would fire, fill him with icy pain and blood. He could see it, all of it on the forest floor. 

He was feral prey, acting solely on instincts and fear. They were calculated, he stood no chance. In his current physical state, there was no way he could transform into a wolf without collapsing. But, he could still try, he could still run. So, he fucking gunned it.

The phantom ash tore at his skin as he fled, the cruel fires climbing closer to him. It licked at his heels. Embers danced in front of his eyes, taunting him. 

Looking quickly behind him, he could see his pursuers were about ten yards back. He weighed his options. He could keep running, which was sure slow death. Or he could go out doing something reckless. 

The trees were dense on this side of the forest. This could work. 

Trying to gain more distance, he pushed his legs impossibly to go faster. As soon as they were an extra ten yards away, he made his move.

There was a tree up ahead with low branches and he leaped for it, grabbing onto the nearest branch, pulling himself up, planting his foot, and jumping for the next one above. He continued this until he was near the top, where the branches were just strong enough to hold his weight. 

Attempting to slow his loud breathing, he clasped a hand over his mouth. Peering over his branch, he caught a sight of the pursuers. He hoped he was fast enough to fool them into thinking he had run ahead past them. 

They neared his tree. He stopped breathing. Only his heart made any noise. It was too dark for them to see him. He fully expected them to continue past him.

To his horrifying surprise though, they stopped at the bottom. He got a decent look at them for the first time. They carried no flashlights, he noticed, which was odd. Their heartbeats were all steady, even after running for who knows how long. A theory began to form, and he didn't like it at all. The final nail in the coffin, though was when the centermost attacker, a woman of about thirty, looked directly back at him. She raised her arm then, and pointed to his location in the tree with a twisted smile. 

Theo almost screamed then against his hand, as her eyes flashed red. 

Half of the pack began to climb up his tree. The others on the ground readied their guns.

He froze for a second, unbelieving. Then, he let out a quick “Shit” and slid the pocket knife out from his boot.

He slid off his branch and landed on the one below, narrowly avoiding the bullets that sailed above. Slicing the root of the thin but long branch next to him, he then punched it and caught it as it fell. He could see one of them steadily approaching him from the right, climbing up the trunk. The others were still in a ring around the root. He flung the branch down at them and then twisted so he could grab the trunk and swing to the left side, kicking down as he went. He caught the beta in the throat with his foot and they went down. 

Not taking a second to glance behind him, he sliced the root of his branch and ran down the length where it crossed those of another tree. He hopped onto the other branch but stayed close to the edge. His old branch was still intact, hanging on by a thread. Perfect.

He hid in the leaves until two other betas got onto the branch, then threw himself forward, slicing the nearest werewolf with his knife and stomping down hard on the branch. He leaped back again as he heard it crack. The sound of them hitting the ground, along with two others the branch caught on the way down, was music to his ears. The fire was back, but it burned with him now. 

He chopped another branch and sent it careening down on the pack below. Hopping up the tree, he did the same to every branch he passed, deterring anyone from trying to climb. They tried shooting at him, but missed. 

The pack below was momentarily dumbstruck, looking to the alpha for their next move. Theo took this opportunity to leap onto the next tree, and the next, until he was a safe distance away. He then dropped down finally and ran to the other side of the preserve. 

There was a cave on the outskirts of the forest, past a large bushel of thorned shrubbery. He stayed there for hours, counting his breaths as they slowed a fraction, and listening to the forest as it burned and crackled in the roaring flames. He did not hear any footsteps. 

The sad reality was, though, that he had nowhere else to go and needed to head back where he came from to his truck. He banked on the chance that he’d scared or outsmarted them enough that they had left, and made his way back after hours of hiding. It was still a while until sunset though, the path he walked was still obscured in darkness. 

His arms throbbed, humming in time with his rabbit heart. His legs craved rest. His injured hand screamed, he'd probably reopened the wound at some point during the fight, but still held the knife steady in a white-knuckled grip. 

The fires had dissipated and there were no scorch marks. Not on any leaf or patch of bark. 

Finally, his truck came into view. It was the only car in the lot. _Thank fuck._

He got out his keys and shakily undid the lock. The adrenaline was long gone and now that he was back at his truck, the threat nowhere to be seen, he was barely standing. He grabbed his water bottle from the cup holder and downed it. He vaguely remembered having a granola bar in his glove compartment and dragged himself to the other side of the truck. Although when he opened the compartment, he couldn’t find it. With a crushing dread, he realized he must have eaten it before and forgot. He sighed. Walked back to the driver’s side, feet barely leaving the ground. 

Theo stared blankly at his driver’s seat. What was the point of driving away? They would just find him again. They wouldn’t expect him to stay in the same place, actually. He considered this plan and decided to just go back to sleep. His logic was relatively sound enough for him to take the risk. 

He closed the door. Approached the back door. But stopped. 

He contemplated the last time he was in his back seat, drifting to sleep to the sounds of trick-or-treaters. He thought he was safe then. Or relatively safe. But he’d been attacked. By an entire _pack_ he knew _nothing_ about. There was no such thing as relative safety, he realized then. He was never safe, never would be. He could have died tonight, he thought, his breath catching. They would come after him again and finish him off. He could die any moment.

He could never rest. Never. He clutched each side of his head, tears pushing out against the corners of his eyes. He was always alone. Always outnumbered, always desperate. There was no one in his phone, no one to call out to. He was so stupid. So, so stupid. He put himself here. They were going to come back for him and he would be too stupid, too slow, too tired to fend them off. 

He couldn’t fucking do this anymore, not on his own and with _nothing_. 

He just needed a minute. A single minute to catch his breath. A minute of complete safety. Away from the nightmares, away from the hunger pains, away from the exhaustion, away from these goddamn hunters, away from the pressing gazes of annoyed police officers. Just to face the world again. He could do it if he just had a minute. But he knew he would never get it. He couldn’t see a way out. In life or in death, he would never be allowed to breathe. There was no escaping _any_ of this, ever. Never in his life had he been able to get away, feel _safe_. He would never make it to that log cabin in the woods that he visited in his head at night. It would always be a mere fantasy. He would never get somewhere to live, never get more money for food, never be able to hold a job, never find anyone who cared about him.

Numbly, he felt himself drift to the ground. He just needed one person to look after him, just for a minute. To maybe sit beside him. Maybe let him lean against their shoulder. Just a minute. He just needed one minute. But, of course there was no one there. Even when his chest ached and burned, no one appeared. It's always been that way. There would be no rest, no comfort, no matter how loud he cried out for it. That’s all he’s learned in this life; no one gives a shit, kid. 

There’s a tiny comfort in that thought though, maybe if he never gave himself to anyone, he wouldn’t care about them not caring. If he never showed weakness, never opened up, maybe he could protect himself. But he always gave anyway. He would still hold out hope. But what good did hope do? Hope couldn’t talk to him, couldn’t text him back, couldn’t pick him up when he fell, couldn’t tuck him under their arm to block out the world and give him a minute to breathe. 

But then, who was he anyways? Does a falling tree make a noise if no one is around to hear it? If no one will ever know him, did he ever exist? 

It would all be ok, the hunger, the pains, the nightmares, the loneliness, being hunted, all of it. If he could just relax for a minute. Be known. He would settle for a second at this point. _Please_ , he begged silently. 

If it was possible he curled up more, putting his head in the space between his stomach and legs. His arms wrapped around to his back, fingertips brushing each other as they met in the middle. It was a cruel imitation of it, but it felt almost like a hug to him. 

His chest contracted and he sobbed just once. 

He was exhausted. And hungry. 

But he couldn’t sleep now, not out here when they could still be after him. He knew this, he did. But he just couldn’t move. 

The sun peaked out some hours later, shining its golden light. And Theo Raeken was still there, folded up and leaning against the driver’s side of his truck, eyes wide open. Numb.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone. First off, I want to apologize for being gone for so long. It's because, I’m going to be completely honest with you, I fucked up this past month. I mentioned last time that I had kinda lost some friends, yah that shit blew up. They were being nasty to my other friends and I had a go at them. I’ve lost a lot of connections because of this and although I know that they’re shitty people and I’m glad they’re not around to hurt my friends any longer, I feel like utter crap for pushing them so far away. I fucking torched those bridges. This all sounds stupid I bet but I’m going to let you in on something very integral to my character: I was bullied for my entire life up until high school and these people were my first ever real friends. And I’ve lost them. It really fucking hurts. I’m not sure if I’ll ever truly recover from this experience. And they said some very hurtful things to me on their way out. (Also, last time I wrote in my little notes section that I had been applying to something. I didn’t get in. A 3.9 GPA at a university that accepts about 12% of its applicants apparently means jack shit. Fuck it! I’m coasting this semester at Zoom University.) Obviously, I’m in a really dark place and I’m very ~fragile~ right now. I’m, in fact, on the edge of tears as we speak. I’m always open to criticism, don’t get me wrong, but if you have anything negative to say, if you can, please hold off for a little bit until I’m doing better. It would break. me. right now. If you genuinely enjoy this fic though, please let me know. It would mean the absolute world to me. My real tumblr is cabeswxter if you ever want to contact me or pester me for an update (I don’t get notifs from the other one or AO3 lol whoops).  
> OK that’s all I had to say. I hope you enjoyed the chapter! It is now 5:30 am and I'm going to attempt sleep. Btw I wrote this between 2am and 5:30 am so please let me know if there are any mistakes. I know there are some somewhere but I'm too tired to find them.  
> <3 Katelyn <3  
> edit: wow I really just overshared but fuck it. who cares. I hope you connected to anything I said above. I'm coasting this semester and im online constantly lmk if you need anything or want to talk.


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